Jubal Van Zandt & the Revenge of the Bloodslinger by eden Hudson

Author:eden Hudson [Hudson, eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: s Adventure Fiction, Fantasy Action and Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal and Urban Fantasy, Thrillers and Suspense Supernatural Witches and Wizards, Mystery Supernatural Witches and Wizards, Mage, Warlock, Thief, Knights, Revived Earth, Halo Bound, eden Hudson, Men&apos
Publisher: Shadow Alley Press Inc.
Published: 2016-10-13T23:00:00+00:00

NINE

We made it to Courten before midnight. The place was even more rudimentary than I’d been expecting—a few big houses within the city limits, plenty of open-air multiple family homes, and maybe eight or ten businesses in all. If Re Suli, the fix-it witch, was there somewhere, she wasn’t going to be hard to find.

Carina and I checked into the only hotel in town—an ecotourist stop—under names I made up before she could be honest and get us shot at again. Then we hauled our bags up to the portico overlooking the jungle and found a pair of unoccupied hammocks that were both an acceptable distance from everyone else and directly beneath a huge ceiling fan.

I kept my shirt on but lost the pants, climbed into my hammock, and carefully arranged the bloodsucker netting so I wouldn’t be sucked dry before morning. “Too bad it’s too hot to get some decent sleep. I know they’re catering to the earth-humpers and broke backpackers, but would it kill them to spring for some AC? I feel like I should be sleeping with my ventilator on.”

“With your delicate constitution, you probably should be,” Carina said, shouldering her bag. “Going to the bathroom.”

“Ten even says it’s a hole in the ground with a board over it. Check for wildlife before you squat.”

She waved over her shoulder without looking back.

I squeezed my eyes shut and listened to the sickening lack of air conditioning. It was almost like there was no electricity in this mudhole at all, like if I fell asleep I would wake up to pitch black and silence.

I reached for the washer, but came up empty. It was still in my pants pocket, folded away for the night inside my bag. I dug my thumbnail into my collarbone instead. Dug and listened.

It was a far cry from quiet out here in the jungle. The underbrush rustled and snapped endlessly. Something whooped five times, then went quiet. Bugs and birds and God knew what else buzzed and trilled on and on without ever stopping for breath. Underneath all of it was the roaring of a nearby river.

An electric sizzle ripped through the darkness, followed by a pained screech.

I giggled.

“What?” Carina was back. She’d added a huge white t-shirt to the loose pair of martial monk’s pants.

I laced my hands across my stomach. “Something got zapped by the town’s perimeter fence. Sounded like a cat.”

She dropped her bag under her hammock and set to work brushing out her hair. “They have black oncas down here, don’t they?”

“Plenty of other big game, too,” I said. “That’s why they have electric fences.”

“My mom told me a story once about a black onca that trapped a mother and her kids on the roof of their hut. The father ran to the village for help, but when he got back, the onca had already eaten through the mother’s ribcage and left her splayed open on the roof. They never found the children.”

“Holy balls!” I sat up in my hammock and glared at her.

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